


One More Time With Feeling

by gaysharks



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Angst, Depression, Eating Disorders, F/F, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Sorry, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicide, torture the cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:18:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysharks/pseuds/gaysharks
Summary: A figure from Sarah's past shows up out of the blue at Med, asking for her. It may have only been a short interaction, but the effects are far worse than Sarah could have predicted, tainting every part of her, leaving her to spiral further than ever before.on a hiatus rn bc of school !! I'm super busy and can't write but I will update at some point





	1. Chapter 1

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“Keep what up?” The woman sitting on the hospital bed tilted her head to the side, an insidious smile forming on her face.

“ _This!_ All of this!” The young doctor gestured helplessly around the room, the exasperation in her voice causing the other woman’s smile to widen.

“Listen, I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re trying to play by coming here, but I don’t want to be a part of it. _I thought you were done with this_.”

“Sarah.” Her voice was sickly sweet, but there was a hostility behind it. “I’m not here to play any game. I’m simply here because I’m sick, and this is where sick people come.”

“ _No._ There are _eight_ hospitals within twenty minutes of here. _Eight._ So why did you come here? And _why_ did you ask for me?”

“I told you; because I’m sick. And you’re a doctor.”

“No. _No_. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.” Sarah turned and stormed out of the room, ignoring the other woman’s persistent calls. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her but she didn’t care; she was too overwhelmed

 _Sloane Fisher_. They’d known each other since middle school, and the resulting seven years of Sarah’s life were infinitely worse as a result. She’d never done anything to upset Sloane, and yet the insults and threats and violence just kept coming, over and over again for almost a decade. And then finally, everyone went off to college, and she thought she was rid of Sloane. That was until she started getting texts and calls, at all times of day and night, threatening her like before. She changed her number twice, then got the police involved but nothing was done. So she just had to put up with it for another two years until Sloane finally got bored and presumably found someone else to terrorise.

And now, here she was 6 years later in a bed in the ED of Chicago Med, one of dozens of hospitals in the city, asking to speak to Sarah.

 

She made it to the break room just as the anxiety became too much, and the tears began to fall as soon as she pushed the door open. _Why_ did this have to happen now? She’d come so far from where she was all those years ago in college. She wasn’t paranoid and alert all the time, and she was learning to let go of her unhealthy coping mechanisms. But of course, that would all be taken from her. Again. That was how Sloane worked after all.

Sarah sat down on the sofa and tried to slow her breathing, all the while waiting for Sloane to burst through the door and attack her. Instead, when the door eventually opened, Dr Charles was standing on the other side, watching Sarah carefully, a look of concern on his face.

“Dr Reese…”

She looked up at him and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“Are you… Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” He paused. “I heard you shouting at that patient just now. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She hesitated. “Especially not with you.”

Her harsh words stopped him in his tracks. He knew they’d had some disagreements in the past, but he didn’t feel they were major enough to affect their relationship in this way.

“What do you mean?”

“What I _mean_ is that this will be just like with Miss Lake. Sloane did some _terrible_ things to me, and by all accounts could be diagnosed as a psychopath, but of course, you’d rock up here and say that her actions are forgivable because she’s mentally ill.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Sarah slow down. I’ve never even spoken to this woman, and I don’t intend to make a judgement on her without hearing what she’s done. Whatever it is, it’s clearly affected you to a great degree. If you want to talk about it I’m more than happy to listen to what you have to say.”

Sarah forced a smile, then took a deep breath.

“We met in middle school, sixth grade when we had most of our classes together. For some reason, she decided she hated me. And I don’t - I don’t know why. But everything I did was wrong, and she made sure I knew it. She’d taunt me, call me names, all the usual childhood bullying. Then we got to high school and things got worse. Where I grew up there weren’t many high schools around, so we ended up together again. She became violent and threatening, and I was hospitalised multiple times because of her. The police were involved at one point during my senior year, but they didn’t do anything...”

Her voice trailed off as she realised how much she was sharing. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than she was used to.

“I - uh, I don’t want to share all the details if that’s okay. I just… I’m not ready.”

“That’s okay. And remember, I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to help.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, already feeling bad for the way she’d snapped at him earlier, then continued, her voice shaky.

“After the incident with the police, she backed off a bit, and then we went to different colleges and I thought it had stopped. I didn’t hear from her for months and then suddenly she was back. I’d wake up to texts from unknown numbers threatening me and my family, and then - and…”

“Hey hey hey. Breathe.”

She took a deep shaky breath.

“I had to take out a, uh, a restraining order, and…”

At this point, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. The first wave of tears hit, and she cried with a certain rawness, all her old wounds reopened. She was left gasping for breath, each sob knocking her down further until all she could do was cling onto Dr Charles for comfort. He felt helpless, unable to do anything but sit with her until this passed. He’d seen her upset before, but never like this, and he was shocked at how much pain was inside her, just eating away at her every day. From what he could tell, she’d never spoken to anyone about it; instead, she’d just repressed it until she was able to cope from day to day.  
A few minutes passed, the two of them sitting there, the silence broken only by the occasional quiet sob as Sarah slowly calmed down. Eventually, she pulled herself away from Dr Charles and wiped her face with her with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was tired, and she looked defeated, her shoulders slumped. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just -”

“There’s no need to apologise. I’m really sorry for what you went through, but I’m proud of you for opening up to me.” He paused. “How long have you been living with this?”

“Six years.”

“ _Six_ years? Sarah, that’s an awfully long time. Have you ever spoken to anyone about this?”

She was quiet for a moment, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, Sarah.” He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, a small act of solidarity.

“Listen, this, uh, this isn’t important. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- ”

She stood up and rushed to the door, stopped for a second to look back at Dr Charles, then left with no idea of where she was headed.

 

“Sharon, can I talk to you for a second?” Sharon Goodwin, the hospital’s Chief of Services, turned to see Dr Charles standing a few feet away from her, anxiety and concern written all over his face.

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Uh yeah, everything’s fine. This is actually about a patient.”

“Oh, of course. Go ahead.”

“The patient in treatment 2, Sloane…” He checked his notes. “Fisher. I’m concerned about her presence here.”

Sharon looked up at him bewildered.

“Why’s that?”

“She has a, uh… a history with Dr Reese. I’m afraid I can’t go into details, but the authorities were involved, and a restraining order was put in place. However, that was six years ago, so it’s-”

“Expired, yes. How much of an effect do you think her presence would have on Dr Reese?”

“Well, based on the conversation we just had, I’d say quite a big one. She was like a completely different person talking about what happened.”

“I see.” She paused, considering her options. “I’ll try and work something out. Thanks for bringing this up Daniel.”

“No problem. Keep me updated, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at her, hoping their conversation would get something done, for Sarah’s sake.

* * *

A few hours later, Dr Charles caught up with Sarah again. She seemed lost in her own world, drifting aimlessly around the hospital, but she looked better now, her eyes filled with more life.

“Hey, Sarah.”

“Dr Charles!”

“How are you doing now?”

“I’m, you know…”

“Yeah. Listen, I’ve got a psych consult down in the ED. You wanna tag along?”

“Uh, yeah sure.”

“Great!”

The two made their way downstairs, Sarah’s anxiety growing the closer they got. She knew it was irrational - there was no way Sloane could hurt her here, not with all the security - but she was still terrified; she’d been tormented by Sloane for years and knew what she was capable of.

When they got to the ED, she found herself being led to Sloane’s room. She trusted Dr Charles but felt that this was a bit much even for him. Before she could say anything, he was already in the room, chatting happily with the patient. She peeked around the door and found to her relief that Sloane was gone and had been replaced with an elderly woman.

“Dr Charles?”

“Yeah?”

“I just need to… check something. I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

Sarah turned away from the door and made her way to the nurses station.

“Hey, Maggie.”

“Hey, Sarah! Are you okay now? You seemed a bit upset earlier.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine now. I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Do you know what happened to the patient in treatment two?”

“I think she was moved, but you’d have to double check with Goodwin.”

“Okay, thanks. Do you know where she is?”

“I’d check her office; I haven’t seen her round here for a while.”

 

Sharon was sitting in her office trying to work out the finances for the ED when she heard a knock at her door.

“Come in.” The door opened to reveal Dr Reese standing timidly just to the side of the door frame, evidently having been waiting for an invitation to come in. She slowly walked over to Sharon’s desk until she was standing opposite her, then took a deep breath.

“Ms Goodwin, I was wondering if you knew what happened to one of the patients in the ED, Sloane Fisher?”

“Oh yes, _Miss Fisher._ Yes, she was transferred to Lakeshore Memorial about 45 minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Sarah was lost for words - she hadn’t expected anything to come of her conversation with Dr Charles.

“She put up a fight though. It took almost half of security to get her out of her room. She kept screaming about you.”

“Can I ask, uh - why was she moved?”

“Dr Charles raised some… _concerns_ he had about her and your history, and I felt it best to send her elsewhere, in order to protect you.”

Sarah was almost instantly on guard again.

“What did he tell you?”

“Not much. Just that there was a history of problems between the two of you, and that you had to take out a restraining order against her. The rest of it isn’t my business, but your safety is.”

Sarah smiled, unsure of what to say aside from a quick thank you.

 

After her chat with Goodwin, she went back to the ED to continue with her shift. Dr Charles was waiting by the elevator, happy to see her looking slightly more relaxed. The two talked for a bit, then went their separate ways. It was only an hour until she was done, but with the anxiety she was experiencing, it felt like years. Despite the security measures that had slowly been introduced over the last six months since Dr Charles’ shooting, she was still worried that Sloane would come back, this time for more than just a little talk.  


	2. Chapter 2

April and Ethan arrived at Molly’s just after eight, eager to relax for a while as neither had a shift the next day. It was busy inside, as it was every Friday evening, and the two of them had to fight their way through the crowd to get to where Nat and Will had saved a table for them near the back. 

Just as they were getting comfortable, they heard a commotion behind them. Herrmann was talking loudly to someone sitting at the bar who seemed to disagree with what he was saying. Ethan turned around and made eye contact with Herrmann, who then frantically gestured for him to come over.

“Excuse me.” He apologised to his friends before standing up and heading towards Herrmann. Sitting there was Sarah, leaning haphazardly on the bar, her head lolling to one side. Her eyelids were heavy as she looked from Ethan to Herrmann and back again, and her cheeks were rosy, almost bright red.

“ _ Hey, Ethaaan. _ ” Her words were slurred and her speech was slow, and when she stood up to try and walk to him she stumbled and had to grab onto the bar for support.

“Hey, Sarah.” Ethan turned to Herrmann. “What’s going on?”

“She’s been here for three hours and now she wants to leave - drive herself home. I took her car keys but she has no other way of getting home. Can you do something?”

“Sure, thanks.” He turned back to Sarah, who was now making another attempt to stand up. “Hey hey hey. Sarah, look at me. Grab my arm, yeah? Can you do that?”

“ _ Uh huh. _ ”

“Great.” He placed his arm around her waist, trying to get her to stand as straight as possible, then slowly walked her over to where his friends were sitting, waiting. 

“Hey, guys. Listen, I’m really sorry about this but I’m going to have to cut this short and take Sarah home.”

“Oh my god, is she okay?”

“She will be, but she can expect a hell of a hangover in the morning. April, I am so sorry about this but-”

“Ethan it’s fine. Make sure she’s okay, yeah?”

“Yeah, I will, thank you.” He kissed the top of her head, then turned to focus his attention on Sarah, who was still loosely holding onto his arm.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

She nodded, and the two of them pushed through the crowded bar towards the door. Once they were outside, Sarah stopped.

“I don’t feel… I’m gonna-” Before he knew what was happening, Sarah had pulled herself away from him and bent over, heaving loudly, the contents of her stomach making an appearance on the sidewalk. He rushed towards her and did what he could to prop her up while she continued to vomit, until all that came up was bile.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and slumped against the wall, barely avoiding the pool of vomit, and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Ethan let her sit for a while until a cool breeze picked up and she began to visibly shake.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He held his hand out to her, and she eagerly took it, allowing him to pull her up into an almost standing position. Her car was parked just around the corner from the bar, and when they got there he put her in the back, where she lay down almost instantly. Herrmann had given Ethan her car keys so he could drive her home, as neither of them felt comfortable sending a young drunk woman home by herself, either by bus or in an Uber. 

 

The drive back to her place from Molly’s was short, and by half nine she was asleep in bed. Ethan stayed with her until midnight, then after taking all the necessary precautions got a cab back home. When he arrived he went straight to bed, careful not to disturb April. However, she was only half asleep when he got in, so the minimal noise he made when he got in was enough to wake her.

“Ethan?” 

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Where’s Sarah? Is she okay?”

“Yeah yeah, she’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“ _ Ethan! _ ”

“What?” 

“Are you  _ sure _ she’s okay? She seemed really upset at work today.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t know. Something happened with a patient I think.”

He was silent for a moment. “I’ll get Dr Charles to check up on her tomorrow, and then I’ll talk to her myself on Sunday. That okay?”

“Sure.”

He could feel the tension between them but knew it wasn’t real and was more as a result of April’s concern for Sarah. Despite this, neither of them spoke to each other until the morning.

 

* * *

 

Sarah woke up slowly, her head pounding and her mouth dry. The light coming in from the window was blinding and only made her headache worse. She stood up and made her way to the bathroom, stumbling the whole way there, and wondered what the hell had happened last night. Splashing cold water on her face did nothing to help the aching in her head, so she moved on and decided to find something to drink. Her mouth was dry, and the taste of vomit exacerbated her already increasing nausea.    
She found her phone on the coffee table on her way to the kitchen, and was shocked to find texts from April, Nat and Ethan, and a voicemail from Will. She read through the texts as she made herself a coffee.

_ Hey sarah, hope ur ok nat x _

_ are you okay? April xx _

_ hope everything’s fine when you wake up. there’s some advil in the kitchen if you need it. Ethan _

_ text me when you get this - wanna make sure you’re okay. Ethan  _

She looked around the kitchen and spotted the Advil - Ethan was a lifesaver - and she quickly took two with some water while she waited for her coffee to brew. When it was done she took it over to the sofa and sat down, already typing out a response to Ethan to thank him for last night. Not that she could remember what she was thanking him for; all she knew was that she’d gone to Molly’s and woken up at home, courtesy of Ethan apparently. Apart from that, she knew nothing and had no recollection of what she’d done the night before. After sending him another text asking him for details of the previous night, she noticed the time.  _ Shit _ . She had to be at work in half an hour, and yet here she was, incredibly hungover, in her pyjamas. 

She rushed into the bathroom and had the quickest shower possible, all the while racking her brain for any memories of the day before. And then one hit and her nausea became physical, and she found herself puking onto the floor of the shower.  _ Sloane. _ How could she have forgotten? With that, so much more came flooding back. Their argument in the ED. Sloane being transferred to Lakeshore. And then Molly’s. The memories were fuzzy, but she was pretty sure she’d gone there to drink away whatever she was feeling. Her breath caught in her throat; this was just like college. Just like before.

 

She finished getting ready in a haze of hangover and anxiety and arrived at work only 10 minutes late. Dr Charles was waiting for her at the nurses station, and his face lit up when he saw her.

“Sarah! I wasn’t sure if you’d make it in today.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I?” She looked at him suspiciously.

“Oh, just after yesterday that’s all. That, and Dr Choi texted me asking me to keep an eye on you.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m  _ fine. _ ”

He studied her carefully. Her eyes were glassy and blank and there were dark circles underneath them. Her hair, normally styled so carefully, was thrown haphazardly in a bun, and he wasn’t sure if she’d even brushed it. 

“I need to put my stuff away.” She motioned towards her bag, and he nodded, watching her as she walked away. Her balance was slightly off, and she seemed to be stumbling a bit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dr Manning standing a few feet away, also watching Sarah.

“Is she okay?”

“Hm?” Nat turned to look at Dr Charles, unsure if he was speaking to her.

“Sarah. Do you know what happened last night?”

“Uh yeah. She went to Molly’s after work yesterday and drank  _ a lot _ . Ethan had to take her home.”

“Is that it? She didn’t say anything?”

“Not that I’m aware of - I only saw her for a minute or two. Why?”

“No reason…” His voice trailed off and he looked solemnly towards the doctor’s lounge, only to find that Sarah was nowhere in sight. 

“Will you excuse me for just a second?” Nat nodded as he quickly made his way over to where Sarah should be. 

When he got there he was relieved to find her on the sofa, but aside from that was still just as concerned as before, if not more so. She was sitting with her head between her knees, almost entirely unaware of his presence. He paused, eyes locked onto her. After a few tedious seconds, he started towards her, hesitant as he sat beside her. It was only when she looked up did he recognise the extent of her actions the night before, the signs he hadn’t picked up on earlier. He barely recognised her. Her eyes were as dark as they always were, but they were bloodshot and reddened, broken. 

“This isn’t you.” He began, his voice shaking. His body shifted, shoulders falling in pity. 

“This isn’t you Sarah. You can’t - you can’t just show up like this.”

She sighed and turned away from him.

“What happened last night?”

There was a moment’s silence, and Dr Charles was convinced he wasn’t going to get a response.

“ _ I tried to drink it away.”  _ Sarah spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Sorry?”

“I just - I couldn’t cope with seeing Sloane again. I went to Molly’s to try and drink it away and…”

Her voice trailed off as the embarrassment set in.  _ God.  _ How had she got like this again? She didn’t  _ want  _ to be like this - she’d been perfectly happy before Sloane came back. She didn’t need her here, ruining things and making her life miserable  _ again _ .

“Listen, Sarah? I think you need to speak to someone, be it me or anyone else. Hell, they don’t even have to be a professional - just someone who’ll listen.”

She shook her head.

“No, it’s fine, really.” She looked up at him, forcing a smile.

“This isn’t, this isn’t a big thing. I just had a bad day yesterday, that’s all.” 

“Sarah, trying to drink away any sort of pain is almost always a sign of an underlying issue. You of all people should know that.”

“Well, it’s  _ not. _ ” She snapped at him, her words burning in the back of her throat as she turned away.

“Sarah...”

She was silent again, retreating back into her shell. She’d already said too much, done too much. All that was left now was damage control, making sure she didn’t expose anything else.

“Sarah, can I at least get you on an IV, just to be safe? Nothing too drastic, just one banana bag. That’s all I’m asking, just to make sure that physically you’re okay.”

She sighed, then half-turned back towards him.

“Fine.  _ One  _ banana bag.”

“Great, I’ll go get Maggie to set that up for you.” He stood up, then paused.

“I hope you can sort this out, whatever it is. I’ll be here if you ever need me.” He left the room to find Maggie, and Sarah was once again alone, left with just her thoughts to keep her company.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning on this chapter!! mentions of self harm x

The days passed by in a haze for Sarah, an endless cycle of waking up, going to work, then going home again, each day blurring into the next. All she could do was force a smile and get on with her day, brushing off everyone’s questions and sympathetic looks with a simple “I’m fine.” And she _was_ fine, at least to start with. She thought the shock of seeing Sloane would wear off, that feeling so awful she had to get blind drunk to cope would only be a one-time thing. In a way it was; she didn’t get drunk again. Not for her sake, though. The only thing stopping her was Dr Charles’ disapproval and the fear of being sent home from work.  
So instead she pushed through, telling herself it was only temporary, the shock would subside, and that she’d be back to normal in no time. Only it wasn’t temporary. It got worse each day, the repressed memories from all those years ago rearing their ugly heads, reminding her of every little thing Sloane had said, every snide comment that made her feel less than.

And then she stopped fighting. The memories wouldn’t go away, and every morning she woke up feeling worse than the previous day, haunted by nightmares that woke her early, drenched in a cold sweat. Things weren’t getting better the way she’d thought they would, and it was so much easier to just give in and let it consume her. The sinking feeling in her chest became a constant and she could see herself slipping back to the way she’d been at college.

 

At work she was on autopilot, no longer taking the initiative with cases. Instead, she would do the bare minimum of whatever Dr Charles asked her, simply accepting his diagnoses and treatment options without questioning him. This was what first concerned him; it was such a drastic personality change that he felt he couldn’t just ignore it. Yet whenever he asked her how she was or showed any sort of worry towards her, she just brushed him off, explaining it away as tiredness, giving him a quick smile at the end to prove her point. He knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just tiredness, but there was nothing he could do to help. Instead, he just had to sit back and watch her deteriorate, frustrated by the lack of support he could give.

He tried talking to Sharon, but she simply read him the hospital policy, only telling him what he already knew. _There’s nothing you can do without her consent_ , she told him. _Until you have definitive evidence that she’s a danger to herself or others, you just have to let it be._

And that’s what he did, even though it pained him to do so.

 

Weeks passed by, Sarah showing no signs of improvement. She’d stopped getting worse, at least to those around her, but it still wasn’t enough. By this point, the other staff were starting to get involved, asking more and more questions. Exactly six weeks to the day since Sloane turned up, Dr Rhodes stopped her.

“Hey, Sarah.”

She turned to see him standing behind her, a look of concern on his face.

“Dr Rhodes. Hi.”

“Are you… Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” She answered too quickly, and his heart sank when he looked at her properly, taking in her glassy, hollow eyes.

“Sarah…”

“I’m _fine._ ” She snapped at him, something she found herself doing a lot these days, then started to walk away.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him. His brows furrowed with concern as she hesitated, deciding whether or not to back away. He tightened his grip and she winced, yanking her hand away.

“Leave me _alone_.” Her voice trembled, partly with anger, and partly from holding back the tears that were so close to escaping. Before Connor could even register what had just happened, she’d walked off, heading towards somewhere - anywhere - where she could be alone. The tightness in her chest spread outwards, creating a sense of tension all over her body, and she could feel herself quickly losing control.

Blinded by tears and relying solely on muscle memory, she made her way to the bathroom, a place she’d found herself frequenting more and more often since seeing Sloane again. When she was at work, this was all she had; the cold tiles and the bright white lights were now a comfort, her own safe haven. She locked herself in one of the cubicles and sat down on the lid of the toilet, finally free to let the tears fall. The dull emptiness inside her was too much to cope with, and she could feel that it had already taken over her life again, the way it had when she was younger, back in college. She tried not to think about anything as she cried, but the memories of high school kept reappearing, each one reminding her of something else, something she thought she’d forgotten.

After more than ten minutes without any interruptions, Sarah was finally dragged out of her thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door opening. She tried to stifle her sobs as she heard footsteps getting nearer, and became completely silent when they stopped outside her cubicle. She tried to slow her breathing, but it was still shaky and loud, and whoever was outside heard it clearly.

“Sarah?” It was Maggie, her voice soft and caring.

“Sarah, I know you’re in there.”

“Can you at least come out so I know you’re okay? We’re all really worried.”

With a sigh, Sarah stood up from the toilet and grabbed some tissue to wipe her eyes. She hesitated before unlocking the door, worried that her emotions would show on her face. And they did. When she opened the door, Maggie’s heart broke. Sarah’s eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were tearstained despite her best efforts with the tissue; there was no way she could deny how she was feeling.

“Come here.” Maggie pulled her into a warm embrace, simply letting her cry into her shoulder for as long as she needed. She’d never seen her like this before, not even after Dr Charles was shot, and it unsettled her. Over the last few weeks, she’d watched her slowly become more isolated and less like her normal self, but hadn’t truly realised the extent of the problem until now.

She cried for what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, then pulled away from Maggie, embarrassed.

“I- Can you tell Dr Charles I’m going home?”

“Of course. Will you be okay?”

Sarah paused then nodded.

“If you’re sure.” She smiled at her, trying to elicit some sort of positive response, but got nothing.

“Thank you.” Sarah’s face was blank now, devoid of any emotion, and impossible for Maggie to read. Uneasiness settled over her as she realised what she’d agreed to; sending an obviously unwell person home - whether they were a patient or a colleague - was questionable, and a direct violation of her oath to ‘Do no harm’. But she couldn’t back out of it now as she had no idea what effect that would have on Sarah. So she let her go.

They walked back to the ED together, Sarah continuing out the front past reception, and Maggie stopping at the nurses station. The guilt was crushing her, but there was nothing she could do until she spoke to Dr Charles, who was nowhere to be found. She paged him a few times but got no response, causing her anxiety to skyrocket further.

In the end, she decided to find Goodwin to see if she had any advice. She hesitantly approached her office door, worried about any repercussions that might follow her admission of what she’d done. Just as she was about to knock, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see the chief of services standing behind her.

“Maggie, what’s going on?” Her voice was uneasy as she assessed the panic on Maggie’s face.

“It’s Sarah, I’ve - I’ve made a mistake.”

Goodwin quickly ushered Maggie into her office, sensing the urgency, and gestured for her to sit down.

“Tell me, from the top.”

“Sarah’s - she’s not herself. She’s been so _isolated_ recently, and she looks so tired all the time. And then today, I don’t know what happened. But Dr Rhodes said something to her, and she stormed off. I found her in the bathroom sobbing her heart out and I just - I let her go home. Something’s not right and I just let her leave. What if something happens? This is on _me_.”

“Hey hey hey, Maggie, calm down. What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t _know_. And that’s why I’m so worried - it could be anything!”

“Okay.” She paused for a moment, considering her options.  
“Right, Maggie, as of right now I can’t do anything. However, I’ll try and get Dr Charles to go round and visit her on his way home tonight. He leaves in less than an hour - is that okay?”

She nodded, accepting that this was the best she was going to get.

“I know it’s not a lot, but legally we can’t do anything until we know for sure that she’s at risk. Hopefully, Dr Charles will be able to clear that up tonight.”

Maggie reluctantly agreed, worried that she wouldn’t be able to help Reese if it came down to it. Better to leave it to the experts.

 

When Sarah got home she was still numb. She’d cried out all her feelings in the cold bathroom at Med until there was nothing left but a vacuum inside her chest. This was the worst part of it; she just wanted to feel something.

She shuffled into her bedroom and sat down on her bed, then opened the drawer of her nightstand and removed a small wooden box. Inside were three small blades, gleaming menacingly in the dim light of her bedroom, an open invitation to her own self-destruction. She picked one up and turned it over, inspecting it carefully before rolling up her left sleeve, exposing the damage she’d already done. The scars were at various stages of healing, some weeks old, others only from the previous day. They weren’t deep enough to cause too much damage, just enough to let her feel something.

She’d started in high school at an especially low point with Sloane, and had continued until a few months into med school, managing to keep it hidden from everyone. No one, not even her counsellors at the time, had known. And then one day she simply didn’t need it anymore. Things in her life were better - Sloane was gone, she was on her way to becoming a doctor, and the therapy was working. So she stopped, pretended it had never happened, and moved on. She did it on her thighs, so the scars were easy to hide. She didn’t have anyone pointing and asking intrusive questions, because no one knew.

But now it was different. When the urges had come back, it was no longer her thighs she was dying to cut into, but her arms. She longed for rows of red lines travelling from her wrist all the way up to her elbow, proof that she was hurting, that what she was experiencing was real. That’s how she started - at first, she kept it strictly to her forearm, following the rules only she knew existed. But then she began to run out of space, and soon her whole arm up to her shoulder was covered in scars. She knew deep down that it was a problem, but she wasn’t willing to admit that. Admitting a problem meant you had to fix it, and she wasn’t ready to stop.

Slowly, after finding some space, she dragged the blade across her skin, once, twice, three times. Again and again, over and over until it was the only thing left to focus on. Seeing the blood leak down her arm onto the floor soothed her, and feeling something for once was freeing.

Soon, the feeling of euphoria wore off, and the need to feel again came back. This was how it got her. Each time, she needed to do it more, bleed more, cut deeper. It became addictive, a sort of sick game. It was all she cared about. So she did it again.

 

She’d been staring aimlessly at the blood pooling on her bedroom floor for almost five minutes when she heard her doorbell ring. _Shit._ She frantically put the blades away, then raced to the bathroom to try and clean herself up.

“Just a minute,” she yelled, hoping whoever was outside would hear. There was a dark grey towel on the side of her bath and she grabbed it and pressed it against her arm, hoping it would stop the bleeding. It did for the most part, but she didn’t have enough time to let it stop properly. She couldn’t roll her sleeve back down either - she was wearing a pale blue shirt, and the blood would be obvious the second it started to soak through.

The doorbell rang again as she was rummaging through her closet, trying to find a dark jumper.

“Sarah, it’s me.” Dr Charles’ voice echoed from the other side of the door, and she could hear the desperation in his voice.

“One sec.” She threw on a dark green hoodie, put the towel down on the pool of blood, then almost ran to open the door.

“Dr Charles. Hi.”

“Sarah. How are you?”

“I’m uh, I’m good.” Technically this wasn’t a lie; the endorphins were still rushing around her body from the self-inflicted wounds, giving her the high she so desperately craved. For a moment, she was able to mimic some sense of normality.

“What are you doing here?”

“I promised Maggie I’d check up on you.”

She sighed, fed up with everyone’s interest in her life.

“Well, you can tell her I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because she said-”

“And _I’m_ saying I’m fine. It was just a weird day, that’s all.”

There was a tense silence between them, neither one really believing what she was saying, but at the same time being too afraid to verbalise it.

“Listen, Dr Charles. I appreciate you checking up on me, but there’s really no need. Just… tell Maggie there’s nothing to worry about.”

He nodded, a sense of hopelessness taking over him, then said his goodbyes. As soon as Sarah shut her front door, he was on the phone to Maggie.

“You were right. Something’s definitely wrong.”

 

Sarah’s life continued in its repetitiveness; each night she’d get home from work and find comfort in the contents of her little wooden box. On days she wasn’t working, she hardly even got out of bed, much less got dressed. She was running on black coffee, red bull, and take away pizza when she could manage to phone up. Her performance at work was deteriorating and so were her relationships with the other doctors, but anytime someone tried to bring it up she would snap at them and storm off. They all still cared, but ultimately didn’t know enough to act on it. It was like walking on eggshells around her; one wrong look and she’d lose control - either by internalising it and crying in the bathroom or by yelling at whoever was nearest to her. She’d cut herself off from almost everyone, except for one other doctor. 

 

* * *

 

Connor had paged Dr Bekker ten minutes ago for a consult in the ED, and she’d only just made it down there.

 _Treatment 1. Go to treatment 1._ She wasn’t exactly new anymore, but she was still getting the hang of things at Med, and the ED consults were a little confusing for her.

“Dr Rhodes. You paged me.” She opened the curtain of the little room and was shocked to find that he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was faced with Sarah, who was sitting on the bed with a needle and thread in her hand and her sleeve rolled up.

“Oh my god, are you-” Her voice trailed off as her eyes settled on the young doctor’s arm and the wounds that covered it, trying to take in what she was seeing.

“Do you want me to get someone? I can go and-”

“ _No_.” Sarah’s voice was defensive; she obviously wasn’t prepared for anyone to find out about her secret, especially not this way.

“Could you- could you help me?” She was quieter now, and she looked like a deer in the headlights. Ava nodded and sat on the bed beside her.

“Dr Reese, right?”

“Yeah, or just Sarah.”

“Sarah, right, got it.” She smiled at her as she stitched up her arm, trying to ignore the reality of what she was doing.

“And you, you’re Dr Bekker, right? Connor’s friend?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say we’re _friends_. More like… associates. And please, just call me Ava.”

“Thank you, Ava.” She finished up the stitches and Sarah rolled down her sleeve, revealing the bloodstain where the open wound had been. She caught Ava staring, and was quick to reassure her.

“This was a one-off thing. They’re never normally like that. And I’ve got this.” She gestured to her lab coat, an easy way to cover the blood. However, the concern was still evident on Ava’s face; she’d never dealt with anything like this before and had no idea if what she was doing was correct.

“Listen, I’ll be fine. Just, please don’t tell anyone. It won’t be a problem anymore. No one needs to know.”

“Sarah-”

“ _Please.”_

There was something unnerving about the desperation in her eyes, something that made Ava reconsider her options.

“Are you sure things are okay?”

“Yeah. This won’t happen again, I promise.”

Ava sighed then nodded. She sounded so sincere - how could she not trust her?

“Thank you.” Before Ava had a chance to change her mind, Sarah had gone, leaving her alone in the treatment room, the used needle in front of her the only remnant of what had just happened.

She left the room a few seconds later and was immediately approached by Maggie.

“Dr Bekker, Dr Rhodes has been asking for you. He’s in treatment seven.”

“ _Seven_. Of course, thanks, Maggie.” She quickly realised what had happened - when she’d glanced at her pager, she’d got seven mixed up with one - an easy mistake, but one that would almost certainly make Connor dislike her even more.

Just as she was walking away, Maggie stopped her again.

“Dr - Ava. Is Sarah okay? I noticed she was in there with you.”

“Sarah? Oh yeah, she’s fine.” She forced a smile, feeling terrible about lying, but unwilling to break her promise.

“Okay. If she says anything, please let me or Dr Charles know. She just isn’t… herself.”

“I will.”

“Thanks, Ava.” When she was done talking to Maggie, she made her way over to treatment seven, ready to be accosted by Connor.

Just as she expected, when she got there he was seething, the only thing stopping him from blowing up being the patient in the room. He briefly explained the patient’s situation, and she gave her two cents. It was a fresh perspective and her suggestion for treatment was one that might actually work. However, this didn’t get her off the hook. As soon as they were finished, he pulled her aside into the doctor’s lounge and lay into her.

“I was waiting for you to turn up for _twenty_ _minutes_. Do you know how that looks for the hospital? That we can’t even get doctors to do their job? What, did you get lost or something? You’ve been here for over six months Ava, you should know how things work by now.”

“I’m sorry Connor, but I got caught up with something else.”

He scoffed at her admission and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, okay. This better be good.”

“You were right, I did, uh, get lost. I went to treatment one instead of seven-” He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Of course you did.”

“And Dr Reese was in there. She needed help with something, so I offered to do it for her.”

At the mention of Sarah’s name, Connor’s body language changed completely. He was suddenly less hostile, and there was a new anxiety in his eyes, something Ava had never seen before.

“Sarah? Is she okay?”

“Yeah she’s - she’s fine.”

He squinted at her, trying to work out if she was lying or not, but her face was expressionless, unreadable.

“Okay well… Next time if you’re delayed page me so I know, alright?”  
“Sure.”  
“Thanks.” He gestured for her to leave, and she hurried out, overwhelmed with guilt. She _couldn’t_ keep lying about Sarah - the girl was obviously going through a lot, and it wasn’t fair for her to deal with it by herself. She promised herself that she’d talk to Dr Charles about it before she went home, no matter how busy she was.

 

* * *

 

After Sarah had left the treatment room, she went up to psychiatry, ready to start her day. As soon as Dr Charles saw her, he noticed something was different. Her whole energy was brighter and she seemed more full of life. It continued throughout the day - she was engaging in patient care, and going out of her way to make a difference. She was like her old self again. Despite this apparent positive change, Dr Charles couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

By the end of the day, there was no dent in her mood, nothing to say that she was feeling any different to the way she had been earlier. Her final patient was in the ED with Dr Charles, so when they were done with him, she grabbed her things, ready to go.

“Dr Charles.”

He turned, surprised to see her still here. Normally, she’d leave as soon as her shift was over, and she never bothered to announce her departure or say goodbye.

“Sarah! Aren’t you going home?”

“Yeah, I am. I just wanted to say goodbye first.” Her voice was solemn, but he tried to ignore it.

“Oh. Well, bye, Sarah. See you tomorrow, yeah?” She was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave him a weak smile, then turned and walked off, heading home.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dr Charles spotted Maggie watching him from the nurses station. When she saw that he’d noticed her, she motioned for him to come over.

“Is it me, or was that a bit odd?”

“Yeah, there was definitely something off with her. She never normally says goodbye like that.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Me neither.”

“Dr Charles!” He turned when he heard his name being called, and saw Ava walking towards him.

“Dr Bekker, unless it’s urgent, I really don’t have time for a talk right now. I actually have to be somewhere and-”

“It’s about Sarah.” At the mention of her name, his heart stopped. He could sense the urgency in Ava’s voice and knew that she knew something he didn’t.

“Wha- What is it?”

“I walked in on her in a treatment room earlier. She was by herself, uh… stitching her arm up.” At this piece of news, his heart sank; he knew exactly where this was going.

“It, uh, wasn’t just the one. There were cuts and scars everywhere. I helped her stitch it up, and then she made me promise not to tell anyone. She said it wasn’t a problem, or it wouldn’t be a problem. I wasn’t going to tell you but the guilt’s been eating me up all day.”

“Ava, what exactly did she say?”

“I can’t remember. She told me not to tell anyone, that it won’t be a problem anymore. Then she said _this won’t happen again, I promise_. Why?”

“ _Shit_. Thank you for telling me.” He turned to Maggie, completely panic-stricken.

“Maggie, I know what’s wrong. I need to-”

“ _Go_. Call me if you need anything.”

He quickly thanked her, then rushed out of the ED, praying he wouldn’t be too late.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh major trigger warning on this chapter for suicide and drug overdoses!!!

It took Dr Charles twenty-five minutes to reach Sarah’s apartment block, approximately twenty more than he would’ve liked. He hammered on the door, desperate to get the attention of one of the residents so he could get inside. Eventually, a middle-aged woman came to the door, curious to see what the racket was about. As soon as she opened it, Dr Charles stepped inside, ignoring her protests.

“Where’s number nine?”

“Sir, you can’t just-”

“My friend lives there and she’s in danger. _Where is it?_ ” His tone was urgent, and the woman could tell that whatever was going on was serious.

“It’s- it’s upstairs. I’ll show you.”

The two of them raced up to the second floor, taking the stairs two at a time. She led him to the door at the end of the corridor, number nine. It was locked, and he frantically looked around, trying to work out some way to get in. There were no plant pots to hide a key under, but he knew Sarah and had a strong feeling she’d have one hidden somewhere. He reached up on top of the door frame, praying he was right.

And he was. Pressed up against the wall was a spare key. He placed it in the lock and turned it, relieved to hear a click. He pushed the door open and his heart stopped; lying curled up on the floor next to her couch was Sarah, an empty bottle of vodka a few inches away. The woman, who’d been standing behind him the whole time, let out a small gasp when she saw Sarah.

“Phone 911. _Now.”_ She jumped, then proceeded to grab her phone from her pocket, her hands shaking.

Meanwhile, he’d entered the small apartment, begging to whichever god was out there that Sarah was still alive.

He crouched down next to her, his heart pounding in his chest, and placed two fingers on her neck. There was a pulse, weak but present.

He examined her and noticed her lips were turning blue and she was having trouble breathing. _What had she done?_ This wasn’t just from drinking, but he couldn’t see any evidence of anything else. There were no pill bottles, no syringes. Nothing. He fumbled for his phone and hurriedly dialled Maggie and put the phone on speaker, then began CPR while it rang, the dial tone reverberating around the silent apartment.

“Dr Charles?”

“Maggie. I need you to go to the pharmacy and get me a list of everything Sarah’s taken out over the last week.”

“I’m on my way. What’s happened?”

“I think she overdosed but I don’t know what on.”

At that moment, the woman from downstairs rushed in. “Ambulance should be here in five.”

“Great, thanks.”

He was alternating between compressions and checking Sarah’s pulse, desperate not to lose it.

“Codeine.” Maggie’s voice echoed from the phone, and it took Dr Charles a few seconds to realise what she’d said. He was completely focused on saving Sarah, and the only things going through his head were numbers, counting the compressions.

“Daniel, are you there? What’s happening? I heard something about an ambulance.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… _sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two.”_

“Daniel, speak to me.”

“She’s - she’s got a pulse. It’s weak but it’s there. Her lips are blue and she’s not breathing properly. _Ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five_ … The ambulance should be here soon. What did you say she’d taken?”

“Codeine. It’s the only thing she’s ordered for over two weeks.”

He was about to reply when he heard fast, heavy footsteps coming towards him. He turned around and saw Sylvie Brett and another paramedic he didn’t know rushing into the apartment, kit in hand. Brett immediately knelt next to him, checking Sarah over and making notes on her hand, while the other paramedic rummaged around in her bag.

“What happened? We weren’t given any details.” Keeping one eye on Sarah, Sylvie had turned to Dr Charles, relying on his knowledge to help her save the young doctor.

“She, uh, she overdosed. Codeine. Followed it with a bottle of vodka.” His voice wavered as he gestured helplessly to the bottle that was still lying on the floor.

Sylvie nodded, then shouted orders to her colleague.

“Zoe. 2 milligrams naloxone.” She turned back to Dr Charles.

“Do you know how much she took? How much she weighs? Anything that can help us here?”

He hesitated, feeling powerless as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. This was _real_. He was here, in Sarah’s apartment, watching paramedics try desperately to save her life. How had he let her get to this state?

Before he realised what was happening, he’d been pushed to the side by Zoe, who had now joined Sylvie on the floor. They were frantically working together, one restarting compressions, trying to strengthen her pulse, the other administering the naloxone, the antidote for whatever Sarah had done to herself.

The pair worked efficiently, injecting another 2mg of naloxone which slowly brought her back to semi-consciousness, and within five minutes they deemed her stable enough for transport. Dr Charles rode in the back of the ambulance with her, not letting go of her hand for the entire fifteen-minute journey.

 

“Sarah Reese, 27-year-old female. Codeine overdose. GCS 10, BP 79 over 45. 4mg of Narcan administered in the field.”

“Thanks, I’ll take it from here.” They’d arrived at Med, and were immediately met by Maggie and a few nurses, who took over from the paramedics and wheeled Sarah into a treatment room that had already been prepared for her. Dr Choi rushed inside after Maggie, feeling the pressure more than with most patients. _She’s always been so strong,_ he thought to himself. And now here she was, lying in a hospital bed, barely breathing.

Dr Charles followed the gurney from the ambulance bay, then stopped just inside the ED, hesitant to go any further. Sylvie and Zoe tried to talk to him as they left, but he simply didn’t have the words for it.

When Maggie was confident that Sarah was in good hands, she left the treatment room, concerned for Dr Charles. She couldn’t imagine how he was feeling; Sarah was like a daughter to him, and the thought that he might lose her was too much.

“Daniel…” Her voice was soft as she approached him, but it was still enough to make him jump.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, uh-”

“Come here.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and carefully led him to the doctor’s lounge, ordering everyone in there to get out. He sank into the corner of the couch and immediately burst into tears, the sobs overwhelming his body. Maggie sat next to him, her arm around his shoulder in support, unable to say anything that would make this better.

Eventually, the tears subsided enough that he was able to speak.

“I could - I could have stopped this. I saw what was happening and I didn’t do anything. If I’d stepped in, if I’d even _spoken_ to her she might still be okay.”

“And if you hadn’t gone to her today she wouldn’t be here.” She sighed. “Listen, Daniel. There’s nothing more you can do for her now. She’s in good hands with Dr Choi, and we have no reason to believe she won’t be okay. The Narcan worked, right?”

“Yeah.”  
“Exactly. She’s young and healthy; she’ll make it through this.” Although Maggie seemed calm and collected on the outside, her heart was pounding and she felt sick to her stomach. Sarah was so young, she had her whole life ahead of her, and for this to happen felt like a sick joke. _If only I’d been there for her_. She was trying to keep it together for Dr Charles but knew she wasn’t far from breaking down and sobbing.

The silence between them was only broken by the sudden code blue alert alongside a rush of urgent footsteps and the rattling of a crash cart being pushed along. Dr Charles immediately looked up, his hands sweating, the knot in his stomach tightening.

“Sarah…” His voice trailed off and all the colour drained from his face as he caught sight of the crash cart entering her room.

“Maggie, I have to - I have to help her.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Her voice caught in her throat and she tried to hide it, desperate to put on a brave face. She’d never seen Daniel like this before and it scared her, knowing that if anything happened to Sarah he’d be destroyed, worse even than his current state. There was a look of desperation in his eyes, and it was taking everything in her to try and keep him calm enough so that he wouldn’t rush out and undoubtedly be faced with Sarah in a hospital bed, hooked up to dozens of wires and machines, looking smaller and weaker than ever. That wasn’t what he needed right now.

He resisted at first, then eventually gave in, allowing Maggie to take him away from the ED to the cafeteria. She bought him a coffee, although he didn’t need it; his nerves would keep him up for hours. It was almost empty in there now that it was too late for food to be served, and the only things open were the coffee maker and vending machine. The only other people were a young couple and their crying baby, the two of them pacing around the room, trying to calm it down.

After fifteen minutes the couple left, and the room descended into eerie silence, broken only by the occasional sound of sirens outside. There was a void in that room, an emptiness that neither person was willing to acknowledge for fear that it would grow. Instead, they sat and ignored it in the hopes that would make it go away. They were thinking the same things, about what was happening to Sarah right now, and how they could have prevented it. The guilt and grief weighed heavy on their shoulders, crushing them under the bright white lights.

* * *

Dr Charles was asleep in his office when his phone rang, waking him abruptly. He dozily answered it, barely bothering to check the caller ID.

“Daniel?” It took him a second to recognise the voice at the end of the phone as the effects of his spontaneous nap wore off.

“Maggie?” He paused for a second, trying to collect his thoughts. _Why was Maggie calling him?_ He checked his clock. _2:07_ am. _What was he doing at work so early in the morning?_ And then the memories came flooding back, winding him. _Sarah._ She was downstairs, unconscious in the ED. Or was she? He started to panic.

“Maggie, is - is Sarah okay? What’s going on?”

“She’s uh, she’s awake now. Listen, I think it would be better if you came down and saw for yourself. Are you still here?”

“Yeah, I uh, I fell asleep in my office. Gimme a sec.” He quickly grabbed his jacket from over a chair, then rushed out of the room towards the elevators.

 

When he got there, April led him to Sarah’s room, where Maggie and Dr Choi were already waiting, standing to the right of the bed. Upon seeing him, Dr Choi motioned for him to follow him outside, leaving Maggie and Sarah alone together.

“Ethan… How is she?”

“She’s getting there. We had to resuscitate her when she was brought in and we’ve only just removed the tube. However, she seems to be responding to the naloxone again, so we’ve been maintaining that for the last few hours.”

“Have you contacted any family?”

“She hasn’t uh, listed any emergency contacts. The only number there is yours, and she won’t talk to let us know if we can try and find someone.”

_The only number there is_ yours _._ He tried to wrap his head around that statement. _He_ was her emergency contact. Not her mom, not her dad, not even an aunt or uncle. _Him_.

“Oh. So, what happens next?”

“We think it might be best for you to talk to her, as she’s refusing to talk to both me _and_ Maggie.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

His chest felt heavy and the knot in his stomach from earlier had returned. He’d done this before, dozens of times, but never like this. Never with someone he cared about so much.

“Thank you, Doc. I know this must be hard.”

Dr Charles simply nodded, afraid that if he spoke he’d start crying again.

 

The two re-entered the room, and Dr Charles was finally able to process the state Sarah was in. She was lying curled up on her side, facing away from everyone, her thick hair hiding her face. The short sleeves of the hospital gown left the wounds that littered her arm exposed, on display for everyone to see. She refused to look up when she heard footsteps enter the room, and barely acknowledged Dr Charles when he sat down on the chair next to her bed.

“Hey, Sarah. Dr Choi asked me to speak to you. Is that okay?” Silence.

“I know it’s late, and you must be tired so -”

“Then why are you here?” She immediately lashed out at him, her voice scathing, something he’d never heard from her before. She’d been defensive in the past, of course, but never with such a scornful tone.

“I'm - ”

“Exactly. You have no reason to be down here. You only came to gloat, to show off how good a doctor you are. _Look, I saved my resident._ “

“Sarah, that’s not, that’s not what this is. I’m here because I want to _help_ you.”

She was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at him, her eyes dull, tears rolling slowly down her face.

“ _Why did you do it?_ Why did you save me?”

“I wasn’t going to just let you die.”

“You should have left me. I didn’t want this.” Her voice was desperate, begging for things to be different.

“Sarah - ”

“Leave me alone.”

“We can talk about this more in the morning, but for now - ”

“I s _aid_ leave me alone! I don't need you. Just leave me the _fuck_ alone.” Her voice cracked and the tears began to fall freely, heavier than before. Her breathing was ragged as the sobs shook through her small frame, her only means of expressing the agony inside her.

Dr Charles left the room, his shoulders drooping.

“Give her some diazepam to calm her down and make sure she sleeps. I’ll talk to her in the morning.” Maggie nodded and smiled at him sympathetically, but he didn’t have the energy to even try and fake a smile in return. He simply thanked her, then made his way out of the ED and headed home.

As soon as he got home he went to bed, with the intention of getting a few hours of sleep before his shift in less than six hours. Instead, he lay tossing and turning, his mind wide awake with anxiety; when his alarm went off at seven, he’d slept less than an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'll be able to continue writing this - I started it when I was in a really bad place (in case you couldn't tell lol) and I was mainly using it as an outlet for how I was feeling but now I'm doing so much better and don't need it anymore  
> I might come back to it one day but for now it's on a long term hiatus
> 
> anyway thank you to everyone who read this and commented/left kudos - I really appreciate all of your support and I'm sorry you won't get an ending


End file.
